To Shatter The Mundane

Food-ology (A subtitle to honor young readers)

To Shatter the Mundane

I rummage through the ancient refrigerator held together by cobwebs and mouse droppings. Underneath, the rough and tuble neighborhood of an army of refugee dust bunnies, chased there by the wrong end of a broom. A bolt or something has come loose leading to the hard knocking sound of the compressor hitting the floor as the condenser fires up in response to my holding the door open far to long. It's as if; if I stand here with the door open, a vacant, glazed look in my eyes and concentrate long enough on my hunger than maybe, just maybe, food will magically appear.

Mayonnaise, proof of humanities ability to warp anything of natures wholesome goodness into pure evil, sits in the door flaunting it's immortality. It promises me, "I will still be here, still be edible (assuming your definition of edible means putting it into your mouth with out instantly killing you) long after you have passed from this world."

We'll skip the mayonnaise for now. The compulsory squeeze tube of mustard, an absolute 'must have' for any single male's refrigerator, sits alone. Much smaller than the mayonnaise tub, the tube had earned a spot among the upper echelons of shelving do to it's convenience and attention to frugal container design. It looks lonely on it's ivory colored tower so I move it next to the mayonnaise, partially so they can keep each other company, partially so when I open the door, the fridge will look less empty and not so neglected due to a subtle hint at organization.

There seems to be a bean sitting in a pool of some sort of gravy; I don't remember eating anything that resembles this concoction. This single bean, I'm assuming a kidney bean based on its size and heartiness, has developed a white crystalline outer coating, a perfect contrast to a blackness that reflects it's current color and it's soul, I'm guessing.

Should I do it? Should I kill an evening and just turn the fridge into a project? I could scrub every square nook and cranny of this thing. I'll be up until late in the evening but at least when I wake up tomorrow, I'll feel good knowing I've accomplished something; knowing that yesterday wasn't a total waste of breath. Na; I got stuff to do and if I don't, I'll find something to do.

For now I'll just avoid putting anything on that shelf. Better safe than sorry because only God knows what kind of microbial infection is huddling around it; like some primordial group of cave dwellers just waiting to venture forth, spear in hand, on some sort of tribal expedition to hunt down and ever so needlessly kill it's prey.

The more I stare at the empty refrigerator and this little menace freeze dried to the glass shelving, the more I'm sure that it was just such a delectable little treat that brought ancient Europe to it's knees; oh Black Death, how foul your hidden intent! Perhaps the Indians would have survived first contact with Columbus had not these strange men from distant lands had such a bean stuck to their trouser legs when making land fall.

I come too from this trance of imagination.

A block of cheese! Four pounds of this delectable and oh so savory mound of what is essential fat and salt. I mean really, is there a more perfect food? Of course the cheese log has started to entertain little fury dinner guests from where the wrapping was initially flayed open with violence and disregard to future stowing. No problem, I'll just cut a little piece off the end; an offer to the trash can Gods. After all, there is still easily three and a half pounds left, more than enough for dinner.

My ex-girlfriend once told me she loved mozzarella sticks. I love and miss her intensely at this moment. Maybe once I've eaten this magical cheese block, I'll crush up what's left of a box of old, stale croutons in the cupboard, lather myself up in olive oil, sprinkle the crumbs over myself and give her a call or maybe I'll just clean the fridge.

Author's Note

Please leave anything resembling a review below and I will graciously imbue upon you magical sparkles and/or I'll return the favor.

Reviews

[Vivian]

Epic wording and vivid pictures of the haunted, bacteria-ridden world known as the refrigerator. On the way home, I read this to my brother and he was impressed. He calls it science mixed with literature or 'food-ology'.
It brings back memories of those narrators who start off a nature show with scientific wording to bring laughter in the audience. Thanks for posting

[Vivian]

This is food-ology. I entertained my brother by reading this to him in the car. He says it's science and food-ology

[MeathooksMcGee]

I have hence forth granted your brother the privilege of subtitling this piece ^under the title^ Thanks for your encouragement Viv, have some sparkles. *~*~*